memories that fade like photographs

x

people say that gardens are beautiful;

all of the pretty horses, lined up for sale — their hair is neatly groomed, and they are nothing more than slaves, at an auction

but because they do not look like us, they are not like us

they are nothing but savages ( but, darling, didn't you know that you're the true savage?)

with your judgemental nature and that ugly nose, and you just pretend like you're perfect, when inside, you're just as ugly as everybody else, now aren't you? but you're different than them, because for you—

nobody cares

x

not a single person knows about you

because you're ugly and you're mean and you're rude, and maybe people pretend to like you, but honey, this isn't real life

to reach your peak in teenage years; all of these children that you torment in their dreams ( NIGHTMARES ) and how you make fun of their hair and of their traditions, but they're going to be better than you one day;

they're going to be so much better than you, because they're human

they feel emotions, and they're not perfect, but then again, that's not the point of human;

to be perfect, to be ethereal, like the ancient gods that all of the people used to fear; but darling, is fear really the same as respect?

but you're not exactly a fallen angel, but you're just better at pretending, honey, hiding beneath a mask

x

but your mask is transparent to me and to him and to her, because we know the inner you

we know the person that used to be an innocent, little angel blond girl, traipsing through the gardens, sand between toes

prim hair is curled nicely, & you try to be so nice and good

all sweet and spice, like good girls should

but you're just the crazy bitch around here, and everybody knows it

- after all - there must be a [ reason ] why everybody chooses your best friend

( but she's not really your best friend, anymore, is she? nobody likes you, not even her, and she's nice to everybody )

but you m/i/s/s a childhood full of sand and !happiness!, but now the tables have :turned:

and you're left alone, falling into the ( *d*a*r*k*n*e*s*s)

and for a moment, you're afraid; just a little girl at /heart/

but it's too late now, it's too late, and you could have fixed yourself

but then you hear the screams beneath, and you trail your fingers across the elevator doors

x

the bodies reek of blood

you hang from the rafters, feeding upon your prey, just a little girl

you smear their blood onto your lips and their pasty skin goes straight to your flaky thighs, but darling, everybody knows

everybody knows that there's something different about this little girl

and how she's a monster, but she's always been a dead monster, hasn't she?

but now you're in the games and this is the end

x

she counts to ten

and kills another boy; glimmer tastes their blood and doesn't relish at the taste of it

she falls to the floor, and she's vulnerable in her last moments

vulnerable and weak and everything she's not supposed to be

but it's too late, anyways

x

people say that gardens are beautiful;

but there's nothing more beautiful than a flower growing out of a grave

sometimes the wire must tense for the note
caught in the fire, say oh
we're about to /explode—

notes | i haven't done a freeverse in a while, so i thought that i would write a short one of them; how're you doing? i haven't really been active since homecoming — which went reallyreally well, (: please leave a review!

xx clara